


Guns & Knives

by hakura0



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-18 12:34:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8162231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hakura0/pseuds/hakura0
Summary: Assorted drabbles and shorts for Goodnight Robicheaux and Billy Rocks, though some may be more gen in nature.





	1. Chapter 1

Billy keeps his words to himself a lot of the time in public. It works fine with Goodnight there; since he talks enough for both of them.

They learn more that way - and Goodnight talks sometimes at length, all but baffled at how easy they discount him. How quick they are to assume he's got no idea what they're saying.

Billy tends to just listen to him talk, when that happens and clean his guns or knives to keep his hands busy.

("And you never would have done that?" Billy asked him once, and the conversation fell to an abrupt halt.

"Might've," Goodnight told him, and if it wasn't for the long pause that had come first Billy might have believed the way his companion was shrugging it off. "Done my fair share of foolishness like everyone.")

They're not sure when they ended up with such a deep understanding of each other. There were a couple signals they worked out, sure, but half the time they looked at each and could all but read each other's minds. It wasn't a thing to question though, just one to be thankful for.


	2. Chapter 2

They take an easy day once, near an isolated place on the river. There's grass, and fish enough they should be able to have some fresh meat, and another couple days on horse ahead of them, and it's Goodnight who decides they could use a lengthy little stretch.

That they could use a little break from hiding in the light of day, little as they were about to chance their necks to do it.

They don't do much, really, past take the opportunity to feel the sun on their skin and lounge about half dressed. Goodnight takes the chance to trace Billy's scars in good lighting, whistling now and then at something be it quantity or quality, and planting the odd kiss on unblemished skin.

Billy returns the favor when he's finished, and neither ask about any of the marks but Goodnight'll tell the odd, unprompted story about his like he's trying to chase the quiet that tries to settle in out of their little hide-away.

The sun's almost setting by the time Billy decides to work a little with Goodnight on his knife skills for the hell of it.

"I don't need any more of these you know," Goodnight tells him in faux argument, and Billy leans in to give him a kiss on the cheek with a barely withheld smile.

"Don't worry. I'll go easy on you."

It doesn't last for long, with the light starting to fade, and Goodnight jokes thankfullness. He sits on the ground practically where he stood and pulls Billy down with him; Together there, they share a smoke and watch the sun finally vanish behind the horizon.


	3. Chapter 3

In public they kiss via vices - shared cigarettes and passed bottles. It's inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, un-noticed but there.

Billy doesn't know how many cigarette's he's lit, started, and handed over in effort to get Goodnight to relax (or try), how many times he's passed over the last drink of something. How many times Goodnight's thought he was passing over a last swallow and given him a few drops instead. They were working on that.

But it did work, the second-hand affection. It all worked out in a way, things had a habit of doing that for them. There would be things that they didn't talk about sometimes (things he was waiting for Goodnight to talk about), but damn if Goodnight didn't have a knack for disarming a strange new bar if it's clientele got to looking at Billy like he was dinner.

He'd joked once, under the roar of a particularly lively saloon, that the alcohol didn't taste the same when he didn't have to take on the entire place in order to earn it.

"Next time," Goodnight had joked, and damned if he didn't meet Billy's eyes the next time a bartender started talking out of his ass - for all that Billy just nodded for him to go ahead and do his thing.

They'd laughed into their drinks at the private joke after.


	4. Chapter 4

It's thanks to Goodnight's pride that means they start playing cards against each other, late one night in an all but empty saloon.

It's Billy, after they turn in for the night who holds onto whatever trinket was bid and smiles knowingly. They play more cards by themselves after that, and Goodnight wins back the watch, and another time one of Billy's knives.

They go some time between games, unwilling to add those things to the pile in games with anyone else. To chance the actual loss of these few things.

Goodnight is three sheets to the wind one night when he bets his horse on a misread hand and Billy calls it a night just after, amusement all but shining off of him. The next morning once the horses are ready Billy tells him that he'll loan Goodnight the horse, and when it brings back the night before he calls him a son-of-a-bitch and laughs.

Billy never put the horse up for gamble again, but neither of them forgot the technicalities. It was a way to hold onto a piece of the other, to have something that they needed as a kind of insurance that they wouldn't and couldn't part ways.

They gambled for the flask outside of cards, the day before the end. The day before Goodnight rode off with his tail beneath his legs and Billy drank not knowing if it was for losing Goodnight or fear of dying alone, or maybe just the idea of how far gone he had to be to go.

He keeps the flask beside his heart, and hopes. Goodnight comes back and it's more relief than surprise, because they knew each other maybe too well.

At least they don't die alone.


	5. Chapter 5

After their first night really together, whether things went beyond hands and skin, Goodnight’s almost worried watching Billy on his horse. 

He’s shifting in the saddle differently, on his way to looking like he’s trying not to sit in it at all.

He’s almost ready to check on him, ask if everything’s alright, but the expression on Billy’s face isn’t discomfort. More than anything he looks relaxed, a corner of his mouth just barely turned up in satisfaction.

Billy meets his eyes, and the question in them as he’s staring and the smile becomes a little more pronounced. 

“Mm,” is the only answer that he gives, but it’s enough. He keeps watching him, throughout the day’s ride, and he gets his own surge of satisfaction.

That night, he massages Billy’s thighs and ass until he almost can’t feel his hand, and then finishes him off. Billy takes care of him after, as always.

His seat is better, the next day’s ride, but there’s still a surge of something like lightning between both of them when their eyes meet.


	6. Chapter 6

"Drink?" Goodnight asks, raising a bottle and offering it in Billy's direction with an amiable expression. Billy was still breathing heavy, though barely, and he looked Goodnight up and down, trying to get a measure of the man.

Goodnight nodded at this once over, pulling the bottle back and putting it to his lips to take a swallow of it, before offering it again.

"Sure." Billy tells him finally, moving forward and taking the bottle. His swallow is longer, and Goodnight finds himself unable to pull his eyes away, much like the fight. He smiles though, at the acceptance of the peace offering, and takes the drink back when offered.

"What do you say we take this conversation a little more hospitable?" There was an odd sort of silence in the saloon just then, but a sense of movement outside of it.

Billy glanced at the men around him, and Goodnight could have sworn he smiled. "This place was pretty friendly," he shrugged.

Feet moved into view below the swinging doors then, and Goodnight pressed the bottle back into Billy's hand, moving between him and the door.

He was smiling when the town's lawmen came through, offering up a hand in peace. "Goodnight Robicheaux. I understand a few of your local boys had a spot of disagreement with my friend here over his god given right to have a drink. We can move on now, if it's alright with you." The sheriff opened his mouth to protect, and Goodnight cut him off easily. "I'd hate to have to get involved this time."

"You leaving town?" The sheriff asked, and Goodnight could see him juggling through what was in front of him.

"In the morning. I appreciate it." He nodded his hat, and then made eye contact with the others at his heels, peaceable challenge in his eyes.

"C'mon then, Billy," Goodnight called over his shoulder, walking out through the parting crowd with the other man close behind.

They were halfway down the road, headed towards another inn when Billy spoke up. "I didn't tell you my name, Goodnight."

"No, you didn't. See, I got it off a piece of paper here I'm fixing to burn. I had a change of heart when I saw you work in there; I thought we could see to talking about how we might benefit each other, if we worked together."

"I'm listening."


End file.
